Releasing Rage

by Cynthia Sax

  All hopes of escape vanished the moment he broke her leg. She’d die. That was a certainty. The only choice left to her was how her death would occur.

  Rage was safe. She’d given the other cyborgs a better chance at escaping. There was nothing left for her. She had no family, no career, no big, strong, angry cyborg to care for, to love.

  And she did love him. She realized that now. Her lips curled into a small smile. For several planet rotations, she’d known true happiness. That had been worth all of the struggle, the grief, the pain right now sweeping in heavy waves over her form.

  She was glad he wouldn’t see her like this, broken and defeated, that her possessive cyborg wouldn’t return to find her body violated. Any caring he might have had for her would have vanished, because no male could love a being who had been used that way.

  No female should have to live through that experience. She was ready to die.

  “Are you reporting to Plank now?” Her taunt was slurred. “Are you too dumb to think for yourself?”

  “Fuck you.” Boyd slammed his boot into her stomach again and again. “I’m not the one lying on the floor, about to take it up the ass.”

  “Heard you have.” She’d reached her pain threshold, couldn’t feel more of it, her entire body throbbing with agony. “Heard you bend over for the engineers all the time.”

  Blood trickled down her chin. The ringing in her ears intensified. The tunnel of darkness narrowed.

  “You’ll be bending over for every engineer on the station.” Boyd continued to hammer at her body with his reinforced-toed boots, a scary grin on his ugly face. “They all want a shot at you. The guards too. But I’ll be second, after the Commander has fucked you, shooting his wad inside your fat ass. I earned that right.”

  “By bending over for them.” Emotional agony added to Joan’s physical distress. They’d discussed who’d have her first, every engineer lining up to violate her, to hurt and humiliate her…as they hurt and humiliated the cyborgs.

  The entire battle station was corrupt. If she had known that, she would have planted larger bombs in the service tunnels, compromising the entire structure, allowing only enough time for the cyborgs to escape before causing an implosion.

  But it was too late for that now. It was too late for anything.

  “Get the prolonger from your chambers.” Plank’s voice pierced the buzz. “Quickly before he loses it.”

  Shit. She was running out of time.

  Joan braced herself upward with her one functioning wrist. “Is that all you have, Boyd?” She coughed blood. “You kick like a female.”

  His eyes blazed. “I’ll show you how hard I can kick, Tits.” He drove his booted foot forward, grunting with the effort.

  Her muscles and every survival instinct she had screamed in protest as she shifted her body to the left, placing her forehead in the path of Boyd’s boot. Light exploded in her brain, pain zinged over her skull, and everything went black.

  Chapter Twelve

  The ship shuddered. They’d finally returned to the battle station. About fraggin’ time. Rage was ready to lose his shit, the thought of Joan alone, in danger, making him want to kill some being.

  No, not some being. Crash and Gap.

  “Release me,” he bellowed. His two former friends had chained him to his seat.

  “We will.” Crash gazed down at him. “First, vow on your honor as a cyborg not to attack any being while the guards remain armed.”

  Rage narrowed his eyes.

  Gap stood beside Crash, his unmarked face furrowed with concern. “You said we had to stick to the plan.”

  He’d said that before he knew Joan was in danger.

  “Every moment you delay is a moment your female remains unprotected.” Crash raised one of his eyebrows.

  “I vow.” He didn’t have a choice. She had remained unprotected for far too long already. “If she’s dead, I’ll kill both of you with my bare hands.”

  “I know you will.” Crash dipped his head, accepting his fate. “I did what I thought was right for you and for her.” He released Rage. “Your processors weren’t functioning properly.”

  “So you decided to shoot me.” Rage stood, flexing his muscles. “Was that a logical response?”

  Crash tilted his head.

  “Frag you.” He didn’t have time for a discussion. Rage stomped through the ship, his boot heels ringing against the metal floor.

  Remember the humans will taunt you, trying to get a reaction, which would give them an excuse to kill you. The E model cyborg followed him, transmitting through their secured lines. Don’t give them what they want. Your female’s life depends upon it.

  He’d do whatever he damn well pleased. As Rage thumped down the ramp, exiting the ship, the noise over the line amplified.

  We can communicate with the cyborgs on the alternate shift. Gap expressed what he was thinking. How is that possible? They’re in their chambers.

  My cursed female. That’s how it’s possible. She’d taken action into her own small, breakable human hands, not waiting for him to return.

  Because she didn’t believe he was coming back for her. She didn’t know she was his, his to protect, his to keep.

  Boyd, that warrior wannabe, stood by their ship, a smirk on his bruised face, a long gun in his hands. One of his hands was wrapped in medical binding.

  Rage knew his feisty female was responsible for that also. He inhaled and any satisfaction that he felt disappeared. He smelled her scent on the guard.

  “We’ve been waiting for you, machine, eager for the next stage of fun to start.” Boyd lifted his long gun, reminding him who held the power.

  For now.

  He touched her. Rage’s vision turned red. While I was stunned into stillness on that cursed planet, he was violating my female.

  You can kill both him and me after he disarms. Crash sounded as tormented as Rage felt.

  He wanted to blame his friend for Boyd’s actions but the bitter truth was, Crash was right. He hadn’t been thinking rationally, would have gotten himself killed and not been able to help Joan now.

  His error wasn’t failing to return early. Rage marched toward his chambers. It was leaving her unprotected in the first place.

  Your first priority is to ensure your female is safe. Crash continued to spew soothing reason. You can’t protect her if you’re dead.

  He’s injured. I can take him. He could pivot on his heels, slash the guard’s neck with one of his daggers. Rage’s fingers twitched. Boyd’s skull would be bouncing on the floor before he had time to react.

  The other guards will come to his rescue. You can’t risk it.

  Why does my guard smell like—

  Shut up, Gap. Crash didn’t respond fast enough. Rage heard the kid.

  All of the guards had violated her. His fingers curled into massive fists. She was small and there were so many of them, the males bigger, stronger. There wouldn’t be anything left of her, of his brave, beautiful female.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he felt fear but he felt it now. If he lost her—

  No, he wouldn’t lose her. He couldn’t.

  And the humans would pay for their treachery.

  Every non-cyborg, except for my female, dies. He opened the transmission to all of the cyborgs on the station. Slowly, painfully. Take them apart piece by piece. Use prolongers if they’re available.

  The cyborgs cheered. They didn’t know the reason for the order. They didn’t realize that his female had been tortured, could have been killed.

  He’d allowed that to happen, failed in his duty to safeguard her. Rage’s knuckles whitened. He should have figured out a way to take her with him, should have told her his plans, should have done something, anything.

  He walked as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion. Humans watched him as he passed them. He smelled her on more of the males, heard the whispers.

  “Tits got what she deserved.”

  “No other female
would dare to take one of our positions after this.”

  “It’ll kill her like it did the last engineer. There will be nothing left of her.”

  She was alive. Some of the tension in Rage’s shoulders eased. He didn’t know what state she was in but she had survived. Because that was what she was, what both of them were—survivors.

  Rage, talk to me. He heard the concern in Crash’s transmission. Are you holding it together?

  He was holding it together, barely. Not having the emotional bandwidth to reply, Rage put his vision and auditory on broadcast, allowing his friend and every other cyborg to see and hear everything he did.

  You’re close to your chambers. Crash talked as much as Joan. You can do this.

  He would do this, for his female. The hallway seemed endlessly long, each step excruciatingly slow.

  “We have a surprise for you this planet rotation.” Boyd jabbed the long gun into Rage’s back. “Because you’ve been such a good killing machine.” His chuckle held no humor.

  Rage gritted his teeth, not responding. Joan was the only human to see him as something other than a machine, as more than a weapon to be used. She cared for him, was willing to die for him.

  And, because of his lack of action, she’d been harmed. He dreaded finding out how badly.

  “We had our fun.” Boyd slapped his palm against the access panel. The door slid open. “Now, it’s your turn.”

  Rage stepped forward. Metal was wedged under the inner door, preventing it from closing, and his chambers were a mess.

  He breathed in the scent of cum and blood. The combination should have excited him—breeding and fighting was what he was designed to do.

  Instead, it turned his stomach. The violence was against his female. The breeding wasn’t consensual. It was torture and it repulsed him. A low growl rolled up his chest.

  “Kill her slowly.” Boyd laughed.

  Kill her? He’d rip the guard’s head off. Rage turned. The door had already closed. He could pry it open.

  He wouldn’t. Joan needed him. For the first time in his lifespan, he put killing second. He rushed through the chambers, following her scent, stopped when he spotted the lump on the floor.

  That was his female? “Joan.” His legs collapsed under him. His knees smacked against the hard tile, jarring his physique. Rage didn’t register the impact, his gaze on her naked form.

  She was covered with blood, cum and other body fluids, her skin sliced open, her face so badly beaten, he couldn’t see her eyes. He placed one of his palms on her chest. The rise and fall was shallow and strained. Her breath whistled.

  She lived, but the pain. Fraggin’ hole. The pain she must have felt, must still feel.

  He couldn’t deal with it. Couldn’t bear the sight of Joan suffering.

  Rage threw back his head and roared, rattling the metal fragments scattered around him, filling the chambers with the sounds of his horror, his regret, his sorrow. They did this to her, the humans, and they would all die.

  The overlapping flows of chatter on the secured line abruptly ceased. The space was silent, except for Joan’s breathing. The humans had stopped her constant talking, and that frightened him, so damn much.

  You’re broadcasting this to every cyborg on the station. Crash breached the quiet.

  Don’t care. Rage bent over Joan and gently brushed the guck from her face, flicking it onto the floor. C model cyborgs were possessive. They’d never touch a female covered with another male’s scent.

  But Joan wasn’t simply a female. She was his female. He pressed his lips to hers and licked the swollen, broken flesh, healing her with his nanocybotics.

  What can we do? Crash asked.

  Make them pay.

  The buzz on the secured line resumed, cyborgs fervently vowing to avenge his female. That should have been Rage’s job. He was their top warrior. She was his to protect.

  Killing wasn’t his priority. All of his attention was on Joan, on healing her. He laved her flattened nose. His saliva wouldn’t be enough. Her entire form was fractured, the extent of her damage squeezing his heart.

  To restore her to full health, he’d have to breed with her, becoming another in a long list of males to violate her. Rage discarded his body armor, stripping naked. Would she forgive him for this, for everything he did and didn’t do?

  Did he deserve forgiveness? He carefully parted her legs and lowered himself over her. His mind recoiled at the thought of doing this, of hurting her more.

  “I’ll serve you as you served me, little female.” It didn’t matter the cost to him. Rage drew on a memory of their first meeting, how she had kneeled naked before him, her eyes bright, her mouth moving.

  He hardened, pushed into her, pumped three times and forced his release. His nanocybotics attacked the remnants of the other males first, dissolving their essence, their disgusting scents.

  Rage smelled more of her and less of them. He waited for five, six heartbeats, kissing her face clean, murmuring that she had to come back to him, that she was strong, clever, cunning, and he needed her. He couldn’t bear the silence, the stillness.

  Then he repeated the process, pouring everything he had into the female he couldn’t live without, knowing the act of saving her might cause her to hate him forever.

  * * *

  Time passed. Rage didn’t know how much time. His vision was bleary and his body weak, drained. The door slid open and Gap sauntered into the chambers, his face no longer as boyish, as unlined as it once was.

  “I killed your guard.” He tossed a severed hand on a chair. “Sorry. I meant only to remove his hand but then he started talking about cyborgs and your female and I had to hurt him. One slice of my dagger became fifty and eventually the human’s flimsy heart stopped beating. They can’t take much, even with prolongers.”

  “Don’t care.” Rage groaned as he found release yet again. There was pleasure in the act now, his nanocybotics having repaired Joan’s pussy, tightening her around him, and that increased his guilt. His female was damaged. He shouldn’t be feeling any bliss.

  “Crash says he’s saving the Commander for you.”

  Rage grunted. He’d smelled the male on Joan. He’d enjoy punishing him for hurting her, relaying some of his self-hatred to the Commander.

  “He also sent me here to help you.” The young cyborg stood over him, gazing down at Joan.

  Her bones had realigned and were starting to mend. Her wounds had closed, the bleeding stopped. Her eyes were almost visible, the tips of her brown eyelashes peeking between her swollen skin. Rage had licked the top of her body clean, hadn’t yet risked moving her to clean her back.

  “Do you want me to take a turn?” Gap waved his hand over her.

  “You will never touch my female.” Rage glared at him. “She’s mine, mine to care for, mine to heal, mine to breed with.”

  “I don’t want to touch her.” The cyborg pulled the energy and nourishment tubes closer. “She smells like you but you’re low on fluids.” He bent down, inserted the ends into Rage’s wrists. “You’ll damage her if you collapse.”

  Rage’s eyelids fluttered as the much-needed inputs coursed through his form. “Thank you.” He did need the energy boost.

  The kid dragged a chair over to him and sat. “She has as many scars as you do now.”

  “Her scars will heal.” He hoped. Rage would care for her with or without them. They’d be a badge of honor, proof that his female was strong. But he didn’t want her to remember her assault every time she looked in a reflective surface.

  He brushed back some of her curly brown hair and kissed the lump on her forehead. That she’d had to live through it was bad enough.

  “Could we have prevented this if we’d returned early?” Concern reflected in Gap’s human-looking eyes.

  “No.” Rage sighed. “Crash was right. The humans would have killed me and then they would have killed her. You saved her life by stopping me.”

  “Good.” His friend exhaled. />
  Rage eased in and out of his unconscious female once, twice, three times and found release. Her pussy overflowed with his cum. His arms and legs were stiff from bracing himself upward.

  “Is breeding more enjoyable when the female is online?” Gap leaned forward, unabashedly observing him.

  “Much,” Rage grunted. “This is healing, not breeding.” He pressed his lips between Joan’s eyebrows. Would she forgive him for touching her like this? “Breeding with the right female is an unmatched experience.” One he might not have again.

  The cyborg raised his eyebrows. “It’s better than fighting?”

  “Yes.” He would give up a lifespan of battle for one more opportunity to feel Joan’s fingers gripping his shoulders, her legs around his waist, her hips hitching upward to meet his.

  “Then why would you store your female elsewhere?” Gap tilted his head. “Why would you want to go one planet rotation without her?”

  Rage had begun to wonder the same thing.

  “When I find my female, I’ll keep her with me,” the young cyborg babbled. “If the Homeland won’t accept her, I’ll find a new planet or we’ll stay on a battle station. By then, your female will have improved my mechanics and you will have shown me all of your fighting tactics. I’ll be a powerful cyborg, able to do whatever I want, go wherever I please.”

  Gap had reason for optimism. He hadn’t almost gotten his female killed, hadn’t left her unprotected, allowed other males to violate her, hurt her.

  Rage licked the dark purple bruises on Joan’s shoulder. He might be able to heal her body but her trust would be more difficult.

  He lifted his head and gazed down at her. It couldn’t be. He closed his eyes, counted to three, opened them again. It was.

  Her lips were moving.

  “Joan?” Rage cocked his right ear closer. Even with his superior hearing, he couldn’t make out the words. “I’m here, little engineer. You’re safe. I’ll protect you.” Forever, he vowed. “There’s nothing to fear.” He skimmed her lips with his. “No one will harm you ever again.”